


Not Sick

by unionforj



Category: Union J (Band)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Gen, George Has a Cold!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-12-06 18:54:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unionforj/pseuds/unionforj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George isn't sick. Nope. Because Shelleys never get sick.  This has nothing to do with the fact that getting sick is gross, its just that he's not sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Sick

George wasn’t sick.

 

Sure he was hot then cold and hot then cold like the worst kind of spinning cat and mouse roller coaster, but he would not say aloud that he was sick. As soon as he did, everything would get so much worse. That’s how being sick worked. His family was made up of troopers. They had a soldier, for heaven’s sake, they powered through.

George blew his nose softly, trying not to pop his ears, wincing. Jaymi was snoring, the timer on his phone ticking higher and higher. He had forgotten yet again to hang up, and George could faintly hear Olly’s dog scampering on the other line.

George smiled softly, but then grabbed his stomach, feeling it turn into knots. He ran for the bathroom, trying to decide if he was going to cough or vomit. His stomach decided the latter and he very nearly missed the toilet.

The canteen had served something healthy and fine, but now it tasted merely acidic as it forced its way back up his throat. It burned as he heaved, making his head throb even more and god he just wanted it to be over.

“George?” The sound of static had cut off. George coughed up a bit more, and a large, padded hand rubbed his back as the remnants of his meal hit the bowl. When he was done, he wiped his mouth with some toilet paper and flushed.

Jaymi immediately put his hand on George’s forehead. “George, why didn’t you wake me up? I have medicine in my bag.”

“I’m fine, Jaymi, I just ate something a bit wrong.” George said, pouring a bit of mouthwash out. He started gargling, grimacing at the sting. Jaymi was glaring at him in the mirror. George did his best to look cute and innocent, but his cheeks were ashen and his hair was sticking to his forehead. He spat out the mouthwash and wipe off his chin. “I just need some rest, Jaymi. I’ll be fine tomorrow morning.”

“George, for one, it is tomorrow morning.” At that, George bit his lip, trying to not groan. They had to be up by six thirty, and with his stomach in knots and his nose stuffed up, it would take ages for him to fall asleep. “And for two, you look like right shit.”

George looked down, rubbed at his cheek. “I just need some sleep, Jaymi.”

“What you need is medicine,” Jaymi retorted. He tugged on George’s elbow, and when George protested, he picked him up by his hips, hoisting him in the air the three short feet back to the bed.

“Jaymi, no, seriously, go back to bed, I’m fine.” George coughed into his elbow.

Jaymi eyed him, and walked back over with a blue box in his hands. He felt George’s forehead. “I don’t have a thermometer. Maybe Momma Melanie does…”

“No, don’t wake Miss Melanie!” George protested, trying to grab at Jaymi’s hands. Jaymi waved him away easily, not daring to look at George’s glazed over puppy eyes.

“Oh, hush up, I’m putting you on vocal rest, and you know you’re her favorite!” Jaymi insisted. He grabbed the hotel’s phone and started dialing.

“But-!”

Jaymi covered George’s mouth with his hand, wrapping his arm behind George’s shoulders to do so and spoke into the phone’s receiver (“Hello, can you connect me to room 407, please and thank you, George licking my hand won’t do anything, how old are you?”). George yelped and glared, before he realized that Jaymi really, really wasn’t going to let go.

“Melanie, hi, sorry for waking you,” Jaymi began, dropping his hand from around George’s mouth to his shoulder. “It’s just, George’s gotten sick. Yes, I know, poor little fellow, he’s thrown up and everything. I haven’t been able to check his temperature but he’s warm and I’m a bit worried and I was wondering-oh, okay, thank you very much.”

Jaymi hung up the phone, shaking his head, the corners of his lips turned up. George frowned, pulling his knees up to his chin. “What did she say?”

“Didn’t I put you on vocal rest?”

“You’re not actually my dad, Jaymi,” George pouted, crossing his arms over his torso. It was cold in the room. He wondered briefly if Jaymi was being cruel, and turning the air conditioning on. “And I’m fine, you shouldn’t have woken her. We all have rehearsal tomorrow!”

“And you need to get better so we don’t get eleventh place.” Jaymi reminded him. George shivered, tugging his sleeves down.

“I’m just fine!”

The look that Jaymi sent him made George click his jaw shut.

“How’s your nose, then? Can you breathe properly? You’re wheezing a bit,” Jaymi frowned in worry.

“You can’t do anything about my nose,” George sniped at him primly. Jaymi stared at him, as if to say, want to bet? Then walked away. George widened his eyes, and waited, and before he knew it, Jaymi had returned.

Jaymi had a handful of tissues, and he grabbed George’s nose, “Blow.”

“Jaymi!”

“It’ll help! It won’t fix it, but it will help!”

“Jaymi, I can’t breathe!”

“Blow your nose before I tear it off-!”

“You weigh a ton-!”

“George, just try it, I swear!” They had fallen down over the bed at this point, and George had no choice, if he wanted to breathe, he had to do as Jaymi said. He breathed through his nose as hard as he could, which resulted in popping both his ears.

“Ow, my ears!”

“What happened?”

“It popped my ears,” George complained. Jaymi climbed off, throwing away the used tissues. “And my nose is still stuffed up.”

“But the gunk is out, and you don’t want that stuff in your body, that’s what’s making you ill.”

There was a sharp rapping on the door, and George’s flushed face grew even pinker. “Miss Melanie?”

“She may have insisted on actually coming, in,” Jaymi grinned.

“But I smell like sick,” George complained. He dove back into his bed, and hid his face into his sweat-covered pillow.

“Momma Melanie!” Jaymi smiled, opening the door, “Sorry the rooms a bit messier than usual, I had to go on a hunt for the Nyquil, and he hasn’t even looked at it yet.”

“Oh, hush, let me look at him,” Melanie, bustled passed him; her usually luscious locks frizzy with the night. “Oh, Georgie, you look a mess!”

“Miss Melanie! I’m so sorry I begged him not to wake you up!” George stood up quickly, trying to straighten up his shirt.

“He really did.” Jaymi said. “He feels really warm too.”

Melanie felt George’s forehead. George opened his mouth to try to get her to leave, and found a stick in his mouth instead. She smiled. “No talking.”

He looked down. “Has he been sneezing?”

“No, not really, just coughing.”

“Wet or dry?”

“Uh…” Jaymi just shrugged. Melanie laughed. “Just let him sleep in tomorrow, and I’ll leave my bag.”

She pinched George’s cheek on her way out. And Jaymi wouldn’t tell George his temperature, only that it was too high to get up tomorrow but everything would still be fine come Saturday.


End file.
